City of Heroes: 05 The Cenotaph
by SailorMoonV
Summary: Cale Westmarch has reached the pinnacle of his career, but as the saying goes.... what goes up, must come back down again.


City of Heroes "The Cenotaph"

(From the journal of Cale Westmarch)  
(August 2005)

Vae victus, 'woe to the vanquished' as it is said in Latin. I would not have known what that phrase meant, not originally being of this world and thus would have little reason to be exposed to a 'dead' language, but when words utterly fail you, you tend to go looking for them elsewhere.

It shouldn't have been like this. I was at the the apex of my new life in this dimension, the pinnacle of my 'career' as a hero. Azuria herself had bestowed upon me the coveted title of Archmage recently, and it was a badge of honor that I wore every single day thereafter. Yesterday, Statesman himself stood before a crowd of citizens and my fellow peers to proclaimed that I was now a Hero of the City after all that I had done since my arrival.

It had been a time to celebrate among friends and family, and my sister Cyan had taken it upon herself to do just that. The gathering had lasted well into the night before everyone finally went their separate ways to quietly prepare for the next day. Even heroes need their sleep, after all, and there was no shortage of crisis situations that would spring up each day to require our intervention to prevent the worst from happening.

The faintest glimmerings of the approaching dawn had barely brushed the darkened sky when my world was shattered beyond repair by a Nictus. Perhaps it had been drawn by exotic energies of my magical powers as they surrounded me while I slept, or perhaps it had sensed that I was a very powerful entity among the common masses. Regardless of whether or not there had been a method to its madness, the Nictus latched onto me as I awoke and our very souls were fused together in an instant.

There are simply no words to describe the horror and terror I experienced as the alien mind merged with my own. Images no human should have been able to visualize passed before my mind's eye, words no mortal ear should have heard flooded my brain. I could feel the synapses in my skull being burned into ruin and new ones formed to replace them as the spiritual tendrils burrowed into the core of my soul.

The sun had almost fully risen by the time I became aware of the physical world again, an existence that I now saw through changed eyes. That is not to say there had been an actual change to my body, as I could still perceive the green tint to my retinal nerves that a defective laser had left me with. No, my eyes were what they had been when I went to bed, but what had changed was what I had been.

I spent no less than an hour simply standing at my apartment window in Talos Island, looking out across the foggy city in the gloom of the morning as the memories very slowly started to return. I knew that I was no longer the human mage known as Cale Westmarch anymore, but at the same time neither was I the dark Nictus hunter who called himself Balregu.

The pain of the experiments were still with me, the haunting aura of the mysterious shard crystal corrupting my Kheldian flesh as I touched it with a spectral tendril. All that was bright and glowing became dark and foreboding, tainting me with the same inverse energy that they had sought to study. My mind rebelled against my teachings and ethos, and so I broke ranks with my kind and joined the others who called themselves Nictus.

And then I who was a hunter thus became the hunted.

They pursued me across time and space, a zealous cabal of Kheldians who called themselves the Peacebringers. All they brought, however, was the peace of oblivion to those of us who dared to better ourselves as hunters, to become Nictus in the name of science. They attacked and we fled, slipping into the cosmic voids and cracks as we found them in the hopes of escape. Like so many others I came to Earth, both to hide and to hunt with my new body as the lavish amount of energy covering the little blue sphere of dirt was both copious and unlike anything found elsewhere in the cosmos...

I closed my eyes as I tried to reassert myself, to retain what little hold I had left on my identity. The memories conflicted with one another for space in my mind, memories of my childhood in Sanctuary against my memories of my youth as a hatchling in the quantum-reality pocket where Kheldians lived when phased out of normal space. I still was who I thought I was, but that applied to myself as well, and yet again it applied to neither of us.

It was then that the horror hit me, a feeling of terror and dread strong enough to suppress the inner conflicts. My magic was gone. The threads of eldritch power that tied me to the Entities were not just broken but shattered beyond all hope of repair. Whatever latent power inside my human spirit that had enabled me to call upon the arcane arts of magic was gone now, every last shred of it.

The years of studying at my father's side, intently focused on the tiny fragments of arcana he had been able to unearth in the tombs... countless hours spent in meditation with Azuria to synchronize myself to the Entities of this world to maintain my powers... weeks upon weeks of effort honing my raw skills and talents against vermin like the minions of Countess Crey and those mutated alien Rikti invaders... all that I had endured to become an Archmage in not just name but power as well...

All for nothing.

The despair was soon replaced with a rage that frightened the both of us, a burning urge to visit swift and violent xenocide upon all Kheldians. The squids were not new to me, having met more than my fair share of them during recent months, but now that I truly knew what these parasites were and the pain they can bring to humans...

Enough, I told myself, suprising me with the realization that I wasn't completely integrated yet. I had heard that the fusion between a human and a Kheldian is a fairly rapid experience that results in a gestalt entity, a full blending of the two personalities into a solitary and unique consciousness. Was it the same with a Nictus, though? Or did the fact that it was a forced fusion to an unwilling host add a new element into the equation?

Or perhaps, I thought to myself, my exposure to the eldritch and extremely exotic mathematics of magic and its usage enabled me to effectively cope with having the alien thoughts in my mind? Could that be preventing the domination of one mindset over the other? And how long would this schizophrenia last?

A soft clicking noise made me pause and refocus on my surroundings. The noise persisted for a few moments before there was the harder click of a lock being picked, followed by the near-silent creak of my door being opened. Two hours ago this would have resulted in a magical alarm being sounded, a sharp burst of energy attuned to the runes tattooed on my forearms that would have made me tingle all over. But having been stripped of my magic...

I closed my eyes as despair sank back in. Without my magic, I wasn't even close to being a 'hero' anymore. Perhaps I could still land a few decent blows in a one-on-one fight, having learned more than a few things from the lessons Mother imparted (mostly to Cyan) in our youth, but I was under no illusions of having any true skill or prowess. Coupled with the weakness of fighting the alien voice in my head, there was very little I was prepared to do to confront the thief who was sneaking along the hallway.

The hair on my neck suddenly stood up without warning, even before the bedroom door was eased open. A new sense was being awakened within me, telling me that there was a very unique danger approaching. Even so, I kept my back to the door and observed through the reflection in the window, praying for a swift resolution to the situation regardless of what it entailed.

He was dressed all in white, though it seemed that his tunic and breeches had seen better days. His hair was white too, a rather thick and luxiours mane of snowy hair that flowed halfway down his shoulders as he edged into the room.  
His eyes, however...

"Damn you," he said to me in a low tone, sighing quietly.

"Yes," I said quietly as I turned around. "I think I was just damned not too long ago, and in a wide variety of ways. Would you care to tell me who you are before I decide on how to deal with your intrusion into my home?"

The Peacebringer studied me for several moments in silence, his pupils all but hidden behind the blaze of holy light rising up from his corneas. I could tell that this one had followed me for quite some time now, dogging my steps from planet to planet, dimension to dimension, like a most persistent hound. "I am Lune Fen," he finally said. "And you?"

"Cale Westmarch, at your service," I said with a flourish and a bow. It was, perhaps, a faint echo of my father's sarcasm and sense of elitist humor, but it felt appropriate at the moment.

"And what of Balregu?" he inquired in a leery tone.

"He is here," I replied as a faint smile touched my lips for no apparent reason. Perhaps that was the influence of my alien side, or perhaps that was something else entirely, but again it felt like an appropriate response under the circumstances.

"You cannot escape justice this easily," Lune warned in an ominous tone.

"Excuse me," I replied, more than a little amused at his arrogance. Not that I myself wasn't arrogant at times, as power tends to have little in terms of patience when dealing with other less-than-gifted entities. "But you dare to break into my home and then speak to me of delivering justice? Regardless of the hypocricy of your statement, I doubt I am the entity you think I am."

"Does it matter?" the Peacebringer replied. "You are either the criminal Balregu, or you are hosting his consciousness. I believe the term you use is 'aiding and abetting,' which makes you an accessory to his crimes."

"And if I forced myself on him?" I said without thinking. It was quite an odd statement for me to make, but it only further highlighted the fact that I was still not fully integrated with myself. "I am not Balregu, Lune Fen, nor am I Cale Westmarch anymore. True, I retain the memories of both, broken and scattered as they are, but that will heal and mend in time.

"And what crimes have I committed?" I added as I took a step forward to confront the self-righteous hunter. "All I have done is used the power of science to improve myself, to sharpen the edge of my hunting skills. I haven't killed any Kheldians, whereas you... how many have you killed, Peacebringer? How many Nictus have you 'brought to justice' with those quantum weapons you developed? How many of your brothers and sisters have been hunted down and 'purged' of the 'taint' of the shard science?"

The accusations of death and destruction, when turned around and thrust back in his face, seemed to genuinely catch him off-guard. The glow started to fade from his eyes, revealing a pair of dark blue irises as his human host's personality began to assert itself. I didn't doubt that the blending between the two was complete, or at least far more so than my own, but perhaps there was just a little bit of inner-conflict left inside of him.

Perhaps there was an edge that I could use against him after all.

"It was my duty," Lune said quietly.

"There is more to life than duty, my friend," I pointed out to him. "A blind devotion can sometimes be just as bad, if not worse, than what you were seeking to crush in the first place. Tell me, Peacebringer, what were you in human life before your fusion?"

"What I am now," he replied without hesitating. "A protector of what is natural in this cosmos. You might have called me a druid, a guardian of Nature and protector of her children. Meeting a like-minded Kheldian only made my choice that much easier to accept when he asked for us to join as one. I am so much more aware now, Cale Westmarch. Aware of my self, aware of these dark and tainted surroundings, and aware of the need to do something about it to preserve our planet and our races while there is still time."

My stomach lurched just slightly as he spoke, hearing more than a few echoes of the writings of Dr. Hamidon in the background. While I doubted that Lune was of the same extreme fanatical bent as the scientist and his army of 'Devouring Earth' entities, the undercurrent of fervid zeal was still something to be very wary of. It is said that the road to Hell was paved with good intentions, and people like the Peacebringer usually laid down the bricks with enthusiasm, vigor, and a smile of vindication.

"Did it never occur to you," I said with deliberate slowness, "That maybe, just maybe, the Nictus had the same idea? To improve themselves as hunters to be able to better defend themselves and others in case the Voids return?"

"The Nictus are evil," Lune spat. "Look how many have come to Earth to hunt, to prey on humans and feed off of their essences. A true Kheldian would never have forced himself on anyone. No, Balregu, you are far from innocent, and are in fact the exact scourge that this universe needs to be rid of."

"May I get a word in edgewise here?" I said lightly, causing Lune to blink and edge back with uneasy suspicion. "Perhaps you should look at the fact that I have been 'fighting the good fight' for most of my adult life, and certainly on an almost-daily basis since my arrival in this dimension. If there is an evil presence trying to take root in Paragon City, you can rest assured that I and my fellow heroes will take up arms to flush it out. Or at least flush it into the sewers," I added with a note of open humor. "Granted we're still working on the Rikti scum problem down there, but we drop chlorine bleach tabs down the manholes every so often to help keep things in check."

"You're a hero?" the Peacebringer said warily, seeming to study me most carefully with sudden and acute interest.

"The costume is in the closet," I pointed out dryly with a gesture over his shoulder.

He continued to study me for several moments before he went over to the indicated closet and opened it up. Hanging prominently from the inside of the door was the purple outfit I had designed shortly after my arrival in Paragon City, a somewhat modest design that was still easily-identifiable from a fair distance away. The cape was one of Icon's more distictive selections and only given to those veterans, like myself, who had performed a unique service for the city government and thus could serve as a reliable meter of a given hero's skill and power.

"I think I've seen this before," the Peacebringer mused as he closed the closet door and slowly moved back over to me. "On TV in some news report not too long ago, something about saving a few War Wall engineers."

I shrugged in dismissal, having spent more than a few minutes recently in the proverbial limelight and not remembering half of what I had done. "I may have had a hand in that," I allowed graciously. "Be that as it may, I sense a change in attitude all of a sudden..."

Lune gave me a piercing look for several seconds before taking a very slow and measured breath. "Do you know what a Warshade is?" he asked warily.

The image of a purplish squid named Kiwi came to mind as I immediately thought of my former mistress' enslaved Kheldian. "You can say that," I sighed as more memories rushed back, few of them pleasant. I had been captivated by the power of the dark mistress soon after my arrival in this dimension, and it had taken a considerable amount of time to finally break the chains that had bound me. To be fair, I had gained more than a little magical power while I was under her proverbial 'care,' but there often came a point where there was only so much that could be taught before a new master had to be found... or a new path in life made on one's own.

"Yes, I see that you do," Lune said very slowly, seeming to squint as his burning white eyes studied me intently.

I frowned as I stared back at him, having seen that look on faces before. "Stay out of my mind," I warned him in a dark tone. "Bad enough I still have dreams of those masked Carnival wenches haunting me every so often, I don't need a glowing squid trapezing through my skull as well."

A faint ghost of a smile crossed the Peacebringer's face for a moment. "Very well," he said quietly. "You've surprised me, Balregu, I didn't think you would have chosen a hero to meld with, given the strength of their minds. Are you going to try to become a Warshade, then?"

"Try to?" I echoed, giving him a slightly offended look. "If I didn't know better, little druid, I would say that I already am one."

"Are you now?" Lune replied with a smirk. "You are not used to your new form yet and are barely aware of your own powers. Do you remember how to use your synergies? Surely Balregu remembers..."

Two vastly different images immediately crossed my mind, one of the Novae that live in the methane and ammonia clouds of a gas giant in a distant solar system, the other of the intense life-forms that evolved on the surface of a dwarf star's still-cooling core. Both had been encountered ages ago by the Kheldians when they were still corporeal entities, and their unique patterns were incorporated into the collective Kheldian consciousness today.

Only now, there would be a third pattern etched into the Kheldian memory, the Human form. I was that pattern, a living consciousness that gave physical form to the Kheldian spirit. Together, we were a new life-form, an evolution into a higher being.

A new type of hero.

I looked at my hands as more of the memories came back, not so much being dug up from the depths of my mind as being melded into it. The corrupting touch of the crystal shards had reversed the polarity of Kheldian energy and turned the normally-radiant beings into dark entities. That very same negative energy was with me now, flowing through my body where my threads of magic and mana had once taken root.

"I remember," I said quietly as a dark purple glow began to shine in my corneas. It was a very faint spark, hardly enough to be visible or disturb my already-damaged retinas, but present nonetheless. "And you're right, this is going to take some time to get used to," I admitted as I glanced back up at the Peacebringer.

He looked at me in silence for a few moments, and I would have sworn that I felt his mind brushing against my own for a brief instant. "Very well," he said calmly. "If you truly wish to follow the path of a Warshade, then seek out Shadowstar in Galaxy City. The Freedom Corps headquarters building should be a good place to start. She will guide your first few steps."

"And afterwards?" I prompted.

Lune looked at me before he sighed and turned away. "We all must walk our own path after a certain point," he said quietly. "I doubt ours will cross again, Cale Westmarch, as I am a hunter of Nictus and you... you will no doubt have other goals in mind."

"No doubt," I said dryly. "Oh, and just so we're clear about this? I'm not Cale Westmarch anymore, just like I'm not Balregu. Things have changed."

The Peacebringer paused and turned back to face me with a slightly wary look in his glowing eyes. "So who are you, then?" he asked simply.

It was a fair question, I thought as I headed over to the closet to open it back up. The purple costume hanging on the inside seemed to mock me in an odd way, reminding me that my past hadn't changed, only my future. Deep down inside, I still was the archmage Cale Westmarch... just like I still was the dark Nictus Balregu.

You will find that most heroes prefer to wear something... unique, a sort of personal statement made to others, a voice from my recent past said to me. A hero's reputation can have a very powerful impact on the opposition, so it is often wise to let that speak for itself even from a distance. Most heroes favor names as unique as their costumes as well, so you may wish to think carefully about whom you wish to be known as to the denizens of Paragon City.

"Cale is dead," I finally said aloud as I reached for the uniform. "But yet his reputation lives. There will be a new hero to arise to wear this suit, as it is just as much of a hero as he was. Sad that there will be no grave to be dug, nor funeral to attend to bid farwell to him. Instead, a monument will be erected in his honor, a cenotaph to mark his passing."

It only took a few moments to dispose of my sweatpants and slip back into the form-fitting uniform, sealing clasps and tighting buckles with practiced ease. After all, I had been putting it on for months now and it was literally like a second skin to me. Something caused me to hesitate when it came to the translucent cape, however, holding it gently in my hands before putting it back on the hanger. Statesman took off his cape to honor the memory of Hero 1 and the Omega Team, and so I thought it fitting to do the same for the memory of my past. Perhaps I would wear it again one day, when the time was right, but for now it would remain tucked away.

Fully dressed, I turned back to Lune Fen and picked up my glasses. The lenses were tinted a dark green to help compensate for the laser-damage done to my eyes when I first arrived in this dimension a lifetime ago.

"And I," I said to him as the glasses were settled into place, "Will be that monument. Let us go to Galaxy City to meet with this Shadowstar, then, for the City of Heroes never sleeps."

And with that a new hero was born, fused from two souls, and henceforth known not as Cale Westmarch or Balregu, but only as the Dark Cenotaph.

Dark Cenotaph

Liberty Server

(Original formatting stored at www sailormoonv net) 


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